When I tell people I live in Perth, they don't understand. Of course I live in Perth. Everybody lives in Perth.
"Where do you want to go?" - My taxi driver wants to know. This is typically followed by a heated exchange, often resulting in me having to put down a deposit before he moves a metre:
"Just Grant Street, thanks!"
"Where? Where's that?"
"Just in Perth. Ummm. Like up the road from here."
"What suburb, but? Don't waste my time."
"Perth! PERTH!"
"No, Perth Perth, as in my postcode is 6000. Kind of, Highgate, Mt Lawley. Off Bulwer Street? Yeah..." - To customers at work. These are mostly sleazy, middle-aged gamblers who I don't have to heart (or quick wit) to lie to. Hey, I'm still largely unstalked.
This confusion is all I could think of when trying to write a Concrete Dialogue. That, and the fact that my first love has a piece on that site, and it's quite possibly the most pretentious thing I have ever read.
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3 months ago
2 comments:
I love Grant Street. I am pretty envious about your location. Yours is the $10 cab fare I always dreamed of.
It's usually $7.50 to $12. Depends how many fake surcharges the driver can come up with before we throw handfuls of our change at him.
Extra $2 for post-2a.m, as if that exists!
Of course, if you're feeling poor you can always jump into a taxi heading down Beaufort with some of the Court crowd . They're usually always good for a laugh, and seldom make you contribute to the fare.
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